Breakfast at Regionals
by Original-Z
Summary: It's the night before Regionals and Brittany can't sleep.


**Title**: Breakfast at Regionals  
**Author**: Hippo_Crat  
**Rating**: PG-13  
**Length**: 1,288 words  
**Spoilers**: Up to Sectionals to be safe  
**Summary**: The night before Regionals and Brittany can't sleep  
**A/N:** People have mentioned almost choking to death as a result of reading this story...you've been warned.

**Pairing:** Brittany/Santana, minor Brittany/Rachel

* * *

Brittany crept through the silent hotel hallway keenly listening for any sign that either of the glee club's chaperones were still awake. Her bare feet made no sound on the plush carpet as she stopped outside her destination. She couldn't believe that Mr. Shue hadn't allowed them to pick their own roommates—the gleeks had been divided according to the alphabetical order of their first names. This meant that Brittany was technically supposed to be sharing a room with Mercedes and Quinn, but she had such trouble sleeping in a strange place alone.

The tall blonde cheerleader reached into the pocket of her shorts and pulled out the card key Santana had slipped her during dinner. Once she got to share a bed with Santana sleep would come and then Brittany would be able to rest for tomorrow. Rest was very important because Rachel had told the New Directions team what would happen, in very small words, if they weren't well-rested come next morning.

Rachel could be scary sometimes.

It took three tries to get the door to open; first she left the key in too long, then she hadn't tried the handle quick enough but when it did open Brittany chose not to do her special victory dance—sometimes she could get carried away and the idea of accidentally waking Rachel up before Regionals was even scarier than scuffing Coach Sylvester's sneakers.

Santana's hotel room was set up much like Brittany's; there were two beds and a cot. The blue-eyed teen eyed the three identically dark heads of hair she could make out in the dim lighting from her cell phone. Unlike Brittany, who had willingly taken the cot to spare her teammates, Santana would never sleep on something so uncomfortable and when it came down to Tina and Rachel competing for the last bed…

So Tina was on the cot and Santana and Rachel each had a bed, but which bed was her girlfriend sleeping on? Brittany knew from personal experience that S hated to sleep close to a door, and she often got hot while she slept so she would want to be closest to the AC unit.

Britt grinned as she crawled into bed with her brunette. She cuddled up to Santana's back and put a possessive arm over the slim waist. Eyes closed Brittany patiently waited for sleep to come.

Less than a minute later Brittany was tired of waiting for the Sandman and eyed her girlfriend's exposed neck. She grinned.

Rachel squirmed in her sleep, trying to get away from the source of irritation. After a moment whatever had been beleaguering her had halted its' efforts and the brunette relaxed. The peace was fleeting though and almost as soon as the irritant stopped it restarted. This time Rachel whimpered at the feeling of a hot mouth pressed against her throat.

That was certainly unusual.

It wasn't until she felt a tongue tracing patterns on her skin that her brain kicked in and started to make sense of things.

Someone was in her bed. This person was lavishing attention on her neck that a vampire would be hard pressed to replicate. This person smelt good and was therefore definitely not Jacob Ben-Israel. This person who was not Jacob smelt like candied apples and was almost certainly a woman.

Rachel groaned as her bedmate hit a particularly sensitive spot on her neck. Disturbingly it was at this exact moment she figured out who was in bed with her. "Brittany," Her voice husky with sleep (and _only_ sleep). "Santana's in the other bed."

Brittany paused, at first confused by the voice, and then paralyzed with fear that Rachel was about to eat her soul…or something.

"Sorry." Brittany apologized politely and unwound her limbs from Rachel's.

"So'kay." Rachel said before she turned over and went back to sleep.

Assured that her soul was in no danger Brittany got under the covers with Santana.

She was asleep before her head touched the pillow.

* * *

Rachel awoke to Santana's scowling face. The tiny brunette pushed the comforter off her body and eyed the Hispanic cheerleader warily. "You're not still mad I beat you in arm wrestling for the bed last night, are you?" She asked, hoping the other girl wasn't nursing a grudge.

"Why would I be mad about that when I can be mad about the fact that my girlfriend gave you a hickey last night?" The tone was conversational and light but the words iced Rachel's blood.

The weird dream from the night before came rushing back. Uh oh.

"I feel I should point out that I was deep in a REM cycle and as soon as I woke up and sussed out the situation I directed your girlfriend and her misdirected affections to your bed." Rachel was so busy back pedaling she almost failed to process part of Santana's sentence. "A hickey?"

Later when the anxious team of New Directions sat assembled eating breakfast Rachel voiced the question that had been troubling her all morning.

"Brittany don't Santana and I taste different?"

Various eating utensils fell from the grips of the gleeks. Finn accidentally snorted hot coffee through his nose. Matt poured half a canister of blueberry syrup directly onto Mike's lap. Quinn rolled her eyes and continued eating her weight in breakfast buffet.

"And you two wondered why I stopped going to sleepovers with you." She said around a mouthful of grits.

"Of course you two taste different." Brittany spoke without missing a beat, evidently unconcerned by the mayhem that was spreading around them. "Santana tastes like cinnamon hot tarts and you taste like sugar cookies."

Kurt thought about how Brittany would know how the two girls tasted, which led to him thinking about girls doing things to girl bits. He thought about it too long and it led to him vomiting into the most convenient object around—Mr. Shue's hat.

Will was oblivious to the indignity his hat suffered as he was too busy trying to sooth the wound he had given himself when his fork missed his mouth and instead sunk into his cheek. Emma was not so lucky, she was immensely aware of the three drops of regurgitated scrambled eggs that had landed on her cardigan.

Mercedes shut her eyes the second Kurt started to puke, but it was too late the sound of retching triggered her tendency to sympathy puke and she was forced to swallow a burning mouthful of bile.

Tina sat stiffly in her chair pretending she didn't exist.

Puck cleared his throat of any remaining Frosted Flakes that were trying to choke him and he leered at Tina. "What sort of kinky shit went down in your room last night, Gothy?"

"N-n-n-nothing happened." She stuttered, genuinely afraid she would spill her guts and end up dead because of it. Puck cocked an eyebrow and continued to stare.

"R-Rachel b-b-b-beat Santana at ar-arm wrestling."

Eleven pairs of eyes settled on Santana in shock.

"The bitch got lucky."

Rachel stood from her place at the table and gently pushed her chair in. "Thank you for answering my query, Brittany, I was quite puzzled. Santana, I would not be adverse to a rematch—preferably with witnesses." Primly the petite diva turned away from the table and took several steps before she turned again. "Britt, you're an excellent cuddler and as such are welcome in my bed anytime."

Pandemonium. Sheer pandemonium.

Years later it would be recalled that New Directions almost lost to Vocal Adrenaline at Regionals—not for a lack of talent, but because most of the members were almost hospitalized due to almost choking to death.

In the end, however, Rachel pulled through against overwhelming odds.


End file.
